What' is More Acceptable
by yukiislikesnow
Summary: My name is Sasuke Uchiha. I'm sixteen years old, male, debatable. And I dress like a woman. -Sasuke's gender is literally a gray area. His life is too. Maybe a dash of color will save him. Naru/Sasu AU-
1. Prolouge: This City

Title: 'What' is More Appropriate

Chapter: Prologue

Chapter Title: This City

A/N: This first chapter is in Sasuke's point of view but I intend for the others to be in 3rd person most likely.

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**Sasuke's POV**

This city. It eats all of us up. We spend every day running and scheming and evading. We hide behind others, from ourselves, in costumes. People throw themselves into the thick of it and hope to come out victorious or run for all their worth to evade the inevitable. But eventually everyone stops running, stops throwing themselves into it. Eventually people just let go and let the beast take over and drag you into it's underbelly. Tokyo is a living breathing creature just as much as any person in it. And here I am, in the thick of it, trying to just breathe.

My name is Sasuke Uchiha. I'm sixteen years old, male, debatable. And I dress like a woman. When I was born the doctor told my parents I was a hermaphrodite. He said we wouldn't know for sure until I hit puberty what the full extent of that would be. He insisted that corrective surgery wait until that time so that I would have a say. My father didn't agree but my mother put her foot down. So there I was, a premature he-she and the light in my mothers eyes. The older I got, the clearer it became that I wasn't like other boys. I was always tiny, slim, delicate. My father hated me for it and I just couldn't understand. I was born that way. I just was. I couldn't understand my father's hatred for something entirely beyond my control. When my breasts started to grow, I realized he was more angry with himself. The thought that I was _his_; that I was anything less than normal, let alone perfect, angered him.

Before puberty it was a matter of denial. I was young and riddled with baby-fat. My looks could easily be passed off by my youth. But when I started growing breasts instead of facial hair my father lost all regard for me. When I insisted on keeping my breasts instead of getting reassignment surgery he lost some of his sanity. He hit me and eventually he threatened to cut them off of me himself. That was the first time I felt like my body wasn't right. Not long after though my mother filed for divorce. I went to live with Itachi while it got finalized. Itachi made things...not right, but better. I like my body. I feel at home in it. I don't want surgery at all. I don't want to be male or female. I just want to be Sasuke. In Tokyo I can more of Sasuke than I ever could have been in Kyoto.

In this city a boy in girls clothing isn't much of an oddity or much of a constant. It's a gray area, just like me. It's been almost three years since I've seen my father. It's been almost three years since I've moved to Tokyo. It's been almost three years since I've dressed like a boy, since I've admitted to anyone that I'm a boy. It's hard work. In school I can feel the thrum of the beast eating me up. All of my peers are so curious, so fresh to the world around them. The girls want to know more about me. They're torn between wanting to be my friend and wanting to tear me down for being aloof. The boys want to see more of me. They're torn between mocking my tiny breasts and tripping over themselves to ask me out. I'm always beautiful until I turn them down. Then I'm just some stuck up no-tit bitch.

That's why I die for Sundays. For an entire day I can be one more faceless it in the crowd. I can roam the busy streets, push and shove, and sprint across the street without people paying attention. I feel free. I'm one of the runners. I don't want to be eaten by this city but I want to be in it. I want to get out and be. I want to run up and down it's roads and through its buildings. I want to see its people and its sights. But I don't want to get involved. I don't want to grow roots. I don't want fight the city from the city. I'm afraid of being eaten up. I'm afraid to fight, to take an active roll. I'm afraid that if I do people will see me. Really see me. I like me. Other people don't. And that's a problem for me. I can't hide forever and when the time comes I want to be able to run right out of here. But I know the only way I'm running out of here is if I get my ankles bit first.

Today it's rainy. The drops patter down on my clear plastic umbrella and distort the skyscrapers around me. I'm standing still, my palm up, fingers out, catching the rain. The businessmen and commuters part around me like a sea. Their hurried footsteps splash water onto my ankles, soaking my stockings. It chills me to my toes but it's nice. It's been so muggy lately. The heat is my enemy at school, it makes my gaffing**1** uncomfortable. Almost unbearable. But I wear the girls uniform so I can't risk going without and have to deal with a sweaty crotch. It's time like that, that I wish everyone knew my secret. Boys wouldn't be so eager to watch my shifting thighs if they knew what I was trying to cool off. It's the price I have to pay though. I don't want them to judge. I don't want them to get angry. I don't ever want to feel what my father made me feel. Not ever again. Maybe someday one of my classmates will step up and sweep me off my feet and love my body as much as I do. But more than likely I'll never find love. Maybe I'm destined to be one of those freakish drunken experiments. I'm a conquest. Part of a sexual checklist. Yeah, that's much more likely than love. And that's what makes me sad.

"Oof..."

Businessman, he's in a hurry. I shake the clinging drops of rain from my fingers and merge back into the crowd around me. I don't know what to do. I could run home now and make it in time for a good lunch with mother. Or I could wander a bit more. The air feels amazing, crisp, fresh, and wet. But sooner or later water is going to soak through my shoes and numb my toes. Mm, maybe I can manage a quick circuit around the next block of buildings and still make it home in time.

I hear the thud and squeak of sneakers behind me, screams too. Teenagers on the rampage. I tuck my elbows close to my sides and scrunch up my face to make myself smaller. It doesn't work, that never really does, does it? I just barely manage to catch myself before my face smashes into the wet concrete. My knees and palms aren't all that thankful though. And my umbrella's skittering away. It's getting kicked along by faceless people, too focused on their own selves to help me. Aren't the Japanese suppose to be humble and helpful?

Hands lock around my upper arms and hall me up. Before I can even offer a thanks or tell him to back off he's gone. A blur of black and orange in the rain, hunting down my umbrella. I cross my arms over my chest and huddle under a nearby awning and hope he comes back quickly. Mother is not going to be happy about this. She'll go on and on about how I could get sick and how easily I could've been accosted on the rainy streets. Home is defiantly the only option now. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. The smell of rain is suddenly doused my the smell of miso and I feel a cold metal bar tapping my shoulder. I automatically reach out and curl my fingers around my umbrella. Before I can open up my eyes and focus on him properly he's gone, chasing after those boys that knocked me over. Or maybe he's not. Maybe he's just a good, decent person. Wouldn't that be a miracle?

"Thank you, whoever you are."

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Below is a link to view the umbrella Sasuke has. I'm considering doing fanart on my own but it may take a while. This is just the prologue. If I get good reviews I'll add more chapters.

In case it isn't clear: Sasuke is a runner, so the people who throw themselves into the city are people who say they're gonna do this or that then they end up a desk worker. Someone replaceable and faceless. He wants to get out of Tokyo and go places and avoid the 'inevitable'.

1: Gaffing is the use of tapes and/or glue, along with creative tucking, to hide the penis and make it appear that the man is flat in front.

Remove the spaces.

http:/ cn1. kaboodle. com/ hi/ img/ 2/ 0 / 0/ db /d / AAAAAvwydBMAAAAAANvbUA. jpg


	2. People

Title: 'What' is More Acceptable

Chapter: 1

Chapter Title: People

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its associated characters.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I've started college again and it's been a bit wonky here on the homefront.

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There are times when I wish I was home-schooled. At home I don't have to chose between being strapped down or tucked in. At home I can slum it and be myself. It's the only place I get to be _Sasuke_. The honest to Kami Sasuke that I am. At school I'm a girl, anti-social, aloof, intelligent, and a school spirit pariah. I blatantly refuse to take part in any sports, for obvious reasons, and I barely participate in the one club I'm in. I don't attend any games or rally's. I don't own any paraphernalia with the school insignia on it. And, most importantly, I make it a point to not get friendly with anyone. Getting close can make you weak. It leads to trust. Trust leads to sharing. And sharing between girls may start out with hairbrushes, but it always ends in secrets. Right now, my secret it my own.

Okay, well not entirely. There are a few key people involved in my enrollment. The principle, Mr. Sarutobi, was touched by my mother's plight and allowed me to enroll as a female. Other than him, the school nurse Shizune knows, as well as two gym coaches Anko and Might Gai. The latter being for medical purposes and the former being for changing and competition purposes. As long as I vowed to change in a bathroom stall and leave immediately after dressing, I'm allowed to change with the girls. And Gai never once insists that I join a team. There is someone else. Currently I'm on the fence as to how I should feel about him. Kakashi Hatake, my elusive Literature teacher. The first day of school I submitted a questionable writing assignment that I still don't like to think about. He felt that it was within his rights to visit my home and speak with my mother. He spotted me on the couch is thin cotton pants, sans gaffing.

To his credit he kept himself relatively composed. Instead of the embarrassment or disgust I expected he mumbled a quiet 'I see' and followed sheepishly after my mother into the kitchen. We have an unspoken agreement to not speak of the incident. It's lead to an unusual class dynamic wherein I can leave without some much as a coherent sentence from either end and in return I don't ask a single question about the mask he wears or try to sneak a peak underneath it.

These few tenuous relationships are the closest things I have to friendships. It's lonely, but it's another price I have to pay. If my secret were to get out where would I go? Would I have the nerve to ask my mother to move? Would I be able to brush it off like nothing and hold my head high? Would I embrace the new found freedom and form relationships? No. No, I wouldn't do any of those things. I'm not brave enough to handle the fallout and I'm not cowardly enough to run away. That's why it can't happen. I'm lonely and sad now so that I can avoid being miserable and ostracized later.

It sucks. But life sucks. I had to learn that quick. And I learned the real lesson, the one most people don't learn until they're adults. There are times when I cry for no reason. It happens very fast, a quick burn in my eye and there it is. I can't help it. My body's trying to tell me that my mind is wrong, that this stress is too much and that it just isn't _fair_. I'm quick to blink it away or hide my face. No one gets to see me cry over myself. No one. It wouldn't be right of me to chose this life then complain about it. But sometimes I cry at night, when I'm about to go to sleep and there's nothing left to keep my mind busy. I know my mother has heard it before but she doesn't say anything. She doesn't have to. The lingering kisses she gives me says it all.

Every once in a while I wish I had a friend I could rely on. Sometimes I think telling someone my secret would help. That somehow, if one other person in the world knew, someone I'm not related to, everything would be okay. It's about releasing tension I think. Or maybe it's because I could get a different opinion. A new set of eyes. But I'm afraid, not that I'd ever say that out loud. I am though. There's no going back from that. Once the words leave my mouth they're gone. They're free and they get to float around forever and ever and I'll never be able to take them back. I've decided it's not worth the risk. I don't want to be vulnerable.

So here I am, a semi-social outcast, skating through high school and hoping for something better. Kami help me, I sound like a movie narrator. But as school has just recently started I'm tasked with sussing out my classmates. I've managed to get into a class, 3-B, with a majority of people I already know. My reputation proceeds me it seems, because very few of the new boys have asked me out. I don't know if I should be pleased or vaguely disappointed. Even if I shoot them down, it's still nice to be asked. In fact, only one boy has expressed any interest, Sai. He looks at me like he knows something. But he doesn't, can't. I'm paranoid, it'll be the death of me I swear. I _know_ he doesn't know the truth, but still...It's the eyes I think, they don't match his mouth. Maybe that's it. Because he doesn't 'match' he must know I don't match.

I make no sense.

Sai aside, my class is filled with regulars. Shikamaru Nara sits in the back corner, Hinata Hyuga is to my immediate left, and Sakura Haruno is up front, farthest seat to the right. It's right by the door. I don't associate with anyone else. Our class is considered 'honors', or above average, advanced, whatever makes the board happier this week. A certain amount of seclusion comes with that. I'm able to drift by most days without saying a single word to anyone else. Group projects are seldom. Partners are a bit more frequent, in which case I default to Hinata. Most days she says even less than I do.

I get to work alone mostly. I prefer it that way, and not just for the obvious. I loathe getting saddled up with all the work in a group of slackers. Class 3-B has been graced with teachers who are unconcerned with group dynamics and prefer to let us sink or swim on our own. Today I feel like sinking, just a bit. I'll use my pen as an air tube and survive, probably. Proactive work is a bit much for me at the moment. After yesterdays' incident in the rain my mother insisted on evaluating my health. Which in turn lead to feelings, which always seems to end in fleece blankets and wounded hearts.

I wasn't even badly hurt, just a few scrapes. But I'm her baby. Sasuke is the son she almost lost, the daughter she almost let down. Always an almost. It makes me want to _live_ or die just to become an entire thing. It's way too much to handle on a Sunday afternoon. That kind of shit should happen on Saturdays so it can ruin just the weekend. Or perhaps on a Wednesday so I have something to look forward to afterward. But currently I have to deal. Maybe I'll get lucky and we'll get to watch a movie after lunch break. A segment from a nature show would be nice, something to bleed away the concrete. But if wishes were horses I'd own a ranch and as it stands it seems I don't have a very good fence.

"-behave until return. Umino-Sensei is to be respected in my stead."

There's a murmured consensus that everyone will behave, which I doubt. I've never met Iruka Umino personally but Kakashi seems to be intrigued. I'm still on the fence about whether or not it's positive or negative. It seems to hang somewhere over childish teasing and cryptic reprimands. But he must be good if Ibiki-Sensei is willing to let him cover the class. Maybe there will be a movie. Judging by my classmates, they're hoping for the same thing. Afterall, Umino-Sensei teaches Geography, it's math hour. He can't possibly expect the lesson to continue.

But then again, I have no idea why Ibiki-Sensei is leaving. I guess I really should have been paying attention. Oh well, no great loss. If Kakashi's inane rambling is anything to go by Umino-san is stern but kind. That says pushover to me but I doubt anyone in this class will push him too far. We're the 'good' students afterall.

"S-Sasuke?

"Hm?"

"Sakura w-wants to eat lunch in the cafeteria t-today."

"Would you like me to join you?"

Hinata blushes happily and nods once. Hm, there must be someone in particular she wants to see. That would be something worth seeing, Hinata with a crush. But I could be over-analysing. Maybe she just wants a change of scenery. Kami knows I do some days.

Ah, let's say Sasuke misses Kyoto despite feeling more normal in Tokyo. I also don't like this chapter very much. It's far too short and way to 'blah'. But these informative bits need to come out so it'll flow better later on.


End file.
